


Day by Day

by HiddenTreasures (lastbluetardis)



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Light Angst, Light Smut, Post-Episode: s04e13 Journey's End, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastbluetardis/pseuds/HiddenTreasures
Summary: “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” The Doctor and Rose take that first step together as they begin to clear the air and reconnect after being left alone in a parallel universe together.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Comments: 38
Kudos: 122





	Day by Day

**Author's Note:**

> What is this? I wrote something that’s not an AU??? Indeed I did. I was inspired to write Tentoo/Rose after rewatching Journey’s End this weekend, and after finding half of this fic on my laptop’s hard drive. I wrote the first half of this sometime in 2015 and finally finished it this morning. Enjoy!

They’d been in Pete’s World for a grand total of six hours. Six frustrating, emotionally-draining, confusing hours. Using the newly-obsolete dimension jumpers and some jiggery-pokery of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver—which had _not_ been stolen, thank you very much—they’d managed to teleport themselves directly to the London-based Torchwood offices, where they were greeted enthusiastically by the Torchwood team. Congratulations, handshakes, and hugs were given plentifully and freely; even the Doctor was corralled into the merriment and celebration.

As soon as was polite, though, Rose had grabbed his hand before tugging him and her mother out of the building. Jackie departed their company straight away, not giving either the Doctor or Rose the option of staying with her and Pete. (Jackie knew her daughter would hide from the situation, and was doing her damnedest to make Rose talk to this new Doctor.) Though Jackie did tell Rose quite firmly that she was expected ‘round for dinner one night soon—her little brother would be overjoyed to see her again.

That was how Rose suddenly found herself with a new flatmate and a belly full of butterflies.

The taxi had pulled up to Rose’s home—a small cottage away from the bustle of London that she was renting—and she had guided the Doctor inside.

But rather than sit down and have a much-needed chat about everything that had gone on, they’d cleaned up a little and went straight to bed. In separate beds. In separate rooms.

Sleep didn’t come as easily as Rose would have wished. She should have been able to fall asleep immediately. She’d been awake for over twenty-four hours; she should have been sleeping like the dead. Instead, Rose found herself tossing and turning with nothing but her racing thoughts for company.

So much had happened. She had found the Doctor and lost him again all in the span of a few hours. Only, she hadn’t lost him. He was right down the hall, hopefully having more luck than she was with sleep.

The Doctor was in her flat. _The Doctor_ —her best friend and lost love—was in her flat in the _next room over_. And here she was, cooped up alone.

Letting out a groan of frustration and exhaustion, Rose flopped onto her back. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes and sighed.

When she’d undertaken the Dimension Cannon project, this was not how she had seen things turning out. At all. She had imagined a bit of everything. Her bleakest thoughts were that the Cannon would never work, and she was doomed to die in this universe as every single star eventually winked out. Then there were even bleaker thoughts that she would make it back to the Doctor, only to find he had regenerated into a new body, into a new person who didn’t want her anymore. But at least in that scenario, she imagined they’d saved the universe—the multiverse—and her family would be safe.

However, there were moments she had allowed herself to hope. She allowed herself to imagine that she found him exactly as she left him: tall, thin, tight suit, really great hair and all. She allowed herself to immerse herself in the burning desire and love that she knew would sear through her veins as soon as she’d lay eyes on him for the first time. She imagined being swept into a rib-crushing hug that turned into a heated, bruising snog that turned into some really fantastic sex…

But not in any of her imaginings did she predict this: two Doctors, one of the Doctors coming to live with her while the other left her behind, no TARDIS (yet), no (foreseeable) travelling. And she was still stuck in this godforsaken universe.

At least the company was better this time around, she mused as her thoughts began to turn to the man the next room over. The Doctor was just next door. A white wall still separated them, but between those walls were simple drywall, insulation, and air molecules; there was no impenetrable Void keeping them apart anymore. Just her own stubborn pigheadedness.

Rose’s chest tightened as she remembered the look in his eyes when she’d left him alone in her flat several hours earlier. After a short, cursory tour of his new living environment, she’d made a quick escape, claiming to need a shower and sleep. He’d looked so lost, hurt, and panicked at the thought of being on his own, yet he had forced a smile and agreed wholeheartedly with her. He hadn’t protested, hadn’t asked to stay with her. He’d given her space and time, and she had selfishly taken it.

But why? Why was she hiding from him? She had been looking for him for years, yet the first thing she did was run away.

Cursing softly, Rose flung off the blankets and stepped out of her bedroom into the hallway. The door to the guest room was wide open, and upon peeking in, she saw it was empty. The bed was neatly made up; he obviously hadn’t been in here yet.

Unease flitted through Rose. Surely he was exhausted as she was? He was human now, and would need more rest than he had before. They’d gone through quite a traumatic ordeal, after all. Him especially. He’d gone and split himself in two, for God’s sake. If it was anything like a regeneration, he surely needed to sleep off any lingering stress, lest he make himself ill. Her guts twisted at the thought of him slipping into a coma as he had done that Christmas day after he’d regenerated.

Rose moved down the hall and into the living room. Perhaps he was entertaining himself with the telly? Or the scant collection of books she’d acquired over the nearly four years of existing in this universe. After all, Dickens hadn’t died until 1873 in this world—rather than 1870—and had managed to coax out one last novel before passing. She’d tried reading it herself, but found the material a bit dry and language too foreign for her to thoroughly enjoy by herself.

Before, reading together in the library, snuggled against the Doctor with hot tea and nibbles, had been Rose’s favorite pastime on the TARDIS. He had thoroughly enjoyed narrating books to her, and she had likewise enjoyed listening to him. He’d brought the stories alive in ways she could never have imagined. Quite literally sometimes, seeing as he would often surprise her with trips to go and visit long-dead authors.

Since being trapped in Pete’s World, reading by herself had only left her feeling hollow and alone.

Anyway. Rose was sure the Doctor would have snatched that particular book right up. She was eager to visit a bookstore or library with him now; she was dying to know if any of their old favorite authors had produced anything new or different in this universe. Perhaps they could resume their habit of reading together every night before bed. She would like that very much, and hoped he would as well.

With every step down the hall, her excitement grew. A smile was already tugging up the corners of her mouth in preparation of seeing him, but it slipped when she found her living room as empty as the guest bedroom.

_Where is he?_

She noticed with some satisfaction that the unique-to-this-universe Dickens novel was resting on the coffee table, a bookmark tucked into the pages about a quarter of the way through. But the satisfaction disappeared, only to be replaced with dread.

Where was he? Surely he wouldn’t have left without telling her? A peek into the kitchen told her he wasn’t there either. Nor was he in the loo.

“Doctor?” she called out, her voice trembling. 

No answer. But before she could work herself into a panic, she glimpsed his red Chucks strewn haphazardly by the front door. She breathed out a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere without shoes.

She scrubbed her hands over her eyes, feeling utterly exhausted suddenly. She wondered if she should just go back to bed, but she quickly decided against it. They really, really ought to have a chat about their circumstances and expectations of each other. Yes, she wanted him here with her, but only if he wanted it too. Yes, she was happy to be with him again even though part of her heart was breaking at being abandoned by the other Doctor.

The middle of the night probably wasn’t ideal for that conversation, but at least it might help clear the air a bit. If they were both awake at this ungodly hour, there was no reason not to have this conversation. And at the very least, she really ought to apologize for running away from him like she’d done.

But a conversation required two people, and for all intents and purposes, her flat was empty. Where on Earth could the Doctor have gone?

He hadn’t been taken, had he? By some alien species that recognized him as alien? Was he even still alien? He said his body was human, but he still had a Time Lord’s consciousness. A Time Lord’s memories. Would that show up as alien?

Before she could call Torchwood to track him down, Rose noticed the door to her back garden was unlocked. She strode to the door and nudged aside the curtains. Bingo. A dark, familiar, lanky form was sprawled on one of her lounge chairs. He looked so small, sitting out there by himself underneath the stars he used to travel.

Her heart twinged. How hard must this be for him?

Sighing, Rose turned away from the door. As much as she ached to go and join him, she needed a minute. She needed to organize her thoughts and emotions, lest she simultaneously hug him and rage at him. No, she needed to get her anger and hurt in check first. There would be time to work through that later, but for now, she allowed herself to be filled up with the joy of being with the Doctor again.

To busy her hands, Rose filled the kettle and set about making tea. She pulled down two bags of chamomile tea and worked on making it to each of their likings. At least, she made it according to how he used to like his tea. She wasn’t sure if his tastes had changed, either from time or from becoming human.

With the tea finished, Rose rummaged around her bare cabinets for a box of her favorite biscuits. Tucking the box beneath her arm, she carefully picked up both mugs and headed outside. She struggled with the door for a few seconds until she was able to push down on the handle with her elbow.

The summer night was cool and there was a gentle breeze that nipped at her nose and cheeks. She wished she’d thought to put on a dressing gown; she was soon shivering in her pajama shorts and t-shirt. She wondered if the Doctor was cold. She didn’t know how long he’d been sitting out here, and he was dressed similarly to her: in boxer-briefs and a shirt. She winced when she realized it was the same shirt he’d been wearing beneath his suit. They really needed to get clothes for him.

She took a selfish minute to observe him, to drink in every inch of him before she approached. He must have heard her, because he turned his head. A small smile tugged up a corner of his mouth as she set the mugs and biscuits on the table beside him.

“Hello,” she said, her voice a little breathless.

“Hello.”

“I, er, made tea,” she said awkwardly, wringing her fingers in front of herself. “May I join you?”

“I would like that,” he said. He hovered his fingers over the two mugs and looked up at her questioningly. She pointed to his tea and watched as he took a long gulp, not seeming to care if the hot liquid scalded his throat. He smacked his lips appreciatively. “You remembered how I take it.”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “I was worried that you might not take it the same way.” She picked up her own mug and took a more cautious sip than he had. “But you’re still you, right?”

“Oh! Yes! Of course!” He cleared his throat, then lowered his voice to something a little more appropriate for the quiet night air. “I meant… it’s been a while, is all. Didn’t know if you’d remember something as silly as how I take my tea.”

“I remember everything about you,” Rose murmured, hiding behind a sip of tea.

His face softened.

They slipped into an awkward silence, with each of them nursing their own cups of tea. Rose was painfully aware that she was just standing there like a nutter.

“D’you…”

“Can I…”

They chuckled nervously, and Rose wanted to rip out her hair. Why was everything so stiff and awkward between them? Why did this feel like meeting up with her ex, rather than her lover whom she’d been parted from for four years?

“You first,” the Doctor prompted. He glanced sidelong at the box of biscuits.

Rose grabbed the box and opened it one-handed before nudging it towards him. He beamed at her and didn’t waste any time with grabbing a biscuit and stuffing it whole into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out comically.

Her heart squeezed with love for him, and tears inexplicably burned her eyes. Apart from the layer of tension between the two of them and their current location, it could have been any other night aboard the TARDIS with them sharing late night tea and biscuits before bed.

But there was a layer of tension between them. And they weren’t in the TARDIS.

“‘Oo were sch’aying?” he mumbled as he chewed his biscuit.

The confidence Rose had built up suddenly left her. “S’nothing. Wanted to know if you wanted company. But you looked deep in thought. Don’t want to interrupt. Just thought you might like some tea, though. It gets a bit cold out here.”

Rose realized she was rambling and scrambled to make an escape. “I’ll let you get back to… whatever it was you were doing.”

With her face burning from embarrassment and annoyance at her own cowardice, Rose was about to turn around when cold fingers wrapped around her forearm, halting her exit. She took a deep breath, willing her face to cool down, before turning towards him.

The Doctor was wearing a similar expression to the one he had when she left him alone in her flat earlier that evening. His eyebrows were knitted together, his mouth was drawn up tight into a thin, white line, and his eyes were so deep, so fathomless, and so sad it made her breath catch.

He opened his mouth to say something, and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but nothing came out. He exhaled in a rush, and tried again. Swallowing deeply, he averted his gaze from hers as he asked softly, “Stay? Please?”

He finally dropped his hand from her arm, moving it to cradle his mug of tea. He kept his eyes downcast, staring into the milky liquid, tracing the rim of the mug with his index finger.

The waver in his voice as well as the uncertainty shattered any resolve Rose had of fleeing back to her room. She placed her half-drunk mug of tea on the table and stepped up to him. She rested her hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, then gave him a hug. Standing as she was, she towered over him for once. His shoulders were at her stomach, his head at her breasts. She tried not to think too much of that as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders and held him. This was the first intimate touch between them since their kiss on the beach.

The Doctor clutched at her desperately, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and burying his face between her breasts. She was suddenly extremely aware that she was not wearing a bra. A shiver that had nothing to do with the night air rippled through her.

She bent over him and pressed a kiss to his hair. It was just as soft as she remembered.

They stayed like that for an immeasurable moment, with her hunched over him and him stretched up towards her, holding each other as if their lives depended on it.

When Rose’s back began to protest, she stood, shivering as the cool night air replaced his warm, solid body.

“Will you stay?” he asked again.

Rose bit her lip. She really was quite cold, and judging from the goosebumps raising his arm hairs, he was too.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Before she could overthink it, she leaned down and pecked a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then skipped inside. She shivered when the warm air of her flat kissed her skin. She went to the couch and grabbed the fuzzy blanket balled up in one of the corners. She shook it out as she strode back to the Doctor.

He was sitting in the same position as when she’d left him. She held up the blanket for him to see.

“Budge up a bit,” she said, flapping her hand at him. He blinked, and she rolled her eyes. “Scoot up, and spread your legs. I’ll sit between them. That way we can both share the blanket. Unless…?”

Doubts crept into her mind. This would be a very intimate position for them to sit in. They’d engaged in much more intimate positions before, but that had been years ago.

The Doctor moved quickly, slinging his legs on either side of the lounge chair, leaving room for her between them. 

“Good idea,” he said, patting the seat to encourage her to sit. “I didn’t realize how cold it was. This human body is quite rubbish with the cold.”

Rose carefully lowered herself to the chair, settling between his thighs before she threw the blanket across herself and draped it over his legs and feet. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her middle and tugged her closer until her entire back was flush with his front. A warm tingle bloomed in her stomach.

“That’s better,” the Doctor sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah. It’s nice.”

She pillowed her head against his collarbone and let out a deep breath to relax herself into his arms. His hands rested loosely against her lower abdomen, and before long, his fingers began tracing idle lines across the waistband of her shorts. His lips then pressed ever so softly against her temple before he nuzzled his cheek into the top of her hair.

Rose hadn’t felt this complete in years. Despite the maelstrom of thoughts and other emotions churning through her, the one dominating this moment was utter peace. She loved him so much, had missed him so much, and now she was back with him once more. They still needed to talk, to clear the air between them. She needed to wrap her head around her new reality, to give herself the proper time and space to grieve the loss of the other Doctor, but not right now. Not on such a beautiful, perfect night when she was in the arms of the man she loved.

“I missed you.”

He’d spoken so quietly that if she hadn’t felt the rumble of his chest, she wouldn’t have been sure if he’d spoken at all. She tilted her head up to look at him and saw the depth of his longing in his eyes.

She reached up and cupped his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the touch.

“I missed you too, Doctor. So much.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Are you, though?”

Her heart squeezed. “Yes. I know I didn’t act like it earlier. And I’m sorry. I really am. But I am very glad you’re here. With me.”

He was silent for a few seconds, then he said, “This probably wasn’t what you were expecting, was it?”

“Not really,” she admitted. His entire body tensed behind hers, but she wouldn’t lie to him. “But I’ll get used to it.”

“Great,” he scoffed, and he slowly withdrew his hands from her hips.

“No,” she said. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I expected to be back on the TARDIS, with…”

“With _him_ ,” the Doctor bit out.

“You’re the same man,” she said. He hummed noncommittally. “Please, Doctor. Don’t do this. No, this isn’t what I expected, and yes, I’m angry and hurt and confused. But I’m also happy to be with you. I- I love you.”

He slumped back in his chair and ducked his chin to hide his face. For one horrible moment, she thought he was about to reject her, reject what she’d just said.

Instead, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m happy to be with you, too.”

Rose was said nothing for the span of several heartbeats, then she asked, “What happens now?”

The Doctor cocked his head to the side. “Well… we take it day by day, I guess.”

“Together?” Rose couldn’t help but ask.

A faint smile crossed the Doctor’s lips. “Together. Though, first thing’s first, you’re cold. Let’s go inside.”

Rose, who, despite the blanket, was close to shivering in the cold night air, nodded and stood up from the seat. She messily folded the blanket and began gathering up their mugs and the box of biscuits. The Doctor hurriedly jogged to the door and held it open for her. He followed her into the brightly-lit kitchen but stood there awkwardly while she dumped the dregs of their cold tea down the sink and put the biscuits away.

“This is a nice flat,” the Doctor said, glancing around. “You didn’t stay with Pete and Jackie?”

Rose shrugged. “I did for a while. Then needed my own space.” She held out her hand for him, glad when he threaded their fingers together. After the quiet intimacy they’d generated in the garden, she was loath to let any barriers come between them.

“I noticed the new Dickens book,” the Doctor said, pointing with their joined hands when they walked to the living room. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. “Is it any good? I tried reading it but, well… The classics were never my favorite.”

“But you let me read them to you all the time,” the Doctor said, sounding a bit affronted. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I enjoyed listening to you read them to me,” Rose said, squeezing his fingers. “Maybe you could read that one to me? Like we used to?”

“I would like that,” he murmured. “Did you want to start it tonight…?”

“I’m a bit too knackered for that,” she admitted. “I’d probably fall asleep after the first page.”

Rose guided him down the hall and to the guest room. Rather than releasing his hand, she gripped it tighter.

“You could sleep in here, or you can join me in my room,” she said, her voice low. “Your choice.”

“Your room,” he said immediately, and Rose breathed a sigh of relief.

They untangled her sheets and crawled beneath them. Without speaking, they moved until they were spooned together with the Doctor curled around her as tightly as he could be. His front was flush with her back, his legs tangled in hers. He wrapped his arms around her chest and anchored her firmly to him.

Rose knew this position wouldn’t last the night; no matter how many times they’d fallen asleep tangled together, they always awoke separated the next morning. But for now, Rose relished the closeness, the movements of his chest as he breathed, the tickle of his breath in her ear.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, and the kiss he planted to the sensitive spot just below her ear sent goosebumps prickling through her.

“Night,” she managed, and before she could tell him she loved him, she was asleep.

oOoOo

When Rose next awoke, pale yellow sunlight was filtering through her window. Her head was fuzzy and her eyes gritty, and it took all of a second before the memories of yesterday rushed back to her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Doctor curled up behind her, wide awake and staring at her. He met her gaze and smiled.

All of a sudden, everything came over Rose at once. Tears burned behind her eyes, making her vision swim before she covered her face with her hands and began sobbing. Sobbing for everything she had lost and everything she had gained. For the years of exhaustion and hard work that led her back to the Doctor and led to the salvation of the universe. For the heartbreak and agony of the Doctor rejecting and abandoning her, and for the joy and love of the Doctor that was now crushing her into his arms.

She cried and cried until it felt like her entire body might break apart from the force of it. And through it all, the Doctor held her. His voice was low and soothing amidst her shuddering breaths, and though she couldn’t make out the words, she appreciated it nevertheless.

It took many long minutes before her tears stopped, and even longer before she felt like she could look at the Doctor. When she finally peeked up at him, he offered her a sweet smile and kissed her forehead gently.

“Feel better?” he asked, drying her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Not really,” she said thickly, her voice scratchy. Her head and body ached, and she felt like she could sleep for another couple of hours.

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he said, kissing her forehead again.

“Please don’t think I’m unhappy with you. With being with you,” Rose said. “I’m happy you’re here. But I’m furious and heartbroken at _him_ at the same time.”

“I know,” he murmured. He loosed a long exhale then admitted, “I never expected to be able to do this again. To wake up beside you. You were lost to me forever. But here you are.”

The wonder in his voice was almost enough to set her off crying again. She tucked her face closer into his chest until the urge went away.

“We can do this every day. If you want. Fall asleep together. Wake up together.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt, but she knew he’d heard her. 

He shivered and his arms tightened around her. “I would like that very much.”

Rose pulled back just far enough to press a kiss to his Adam’s apple. The muscles of his throat bobbed beneath her lips as she trailed kiss after kiss to his neck. He hummed and sighed, the sounds making his throat vibrate deliciously against her lips.

“Rose,” he groaned.

He pushed at her, pushing her away, making her stop. Her heart dropped. But as soon as she took her face away from his neck, his lips descended on hers. Her surprised exclamation was muffled by his mouth as his lips devoured hers, searching and pushing and pulling in all the best ways.

A violent shudder rippled down her spine, blazing an inferno through her veins that screamed for more, more, more. She had missed this, missed _him_ , missed sharing her body and soul with him as they made love. And she needed him right now.

Needing better leverage than what was being afforded, Rose wrapped her arms around his shoulder and one leg around his hips and _pulled_. Without breaking the kiss, Rose rolled onto her back, bringing the Doctor with her. He moaned as their bodies aligned perfectly. His hips were cradled in hers, and she felt the burgeoning evidence of what this kiss was doing to him growing against her.

“Rose,” he panted, wrenching his mouth away from hers. “Rose, wait. Is this… do you…?”

“I want this,” she said, cradling his lightly-stubbled cheek in her hands. Her thumbs brushed his kiss-swollen lips. “I want you.”

A helpless little noise escaped his throat before he ducked his head down to catch her lips in his once more. She buried her fingers in his hair, so soft and strong, to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted for him, and their tongues tentatively met in the middle, slipping and gliding against each other, relearning each other after all these years.

An aching heat throbbed between her legs and she shifted restlessly. Hooking her thighs around his hips, she brought him into tighter contact against her. His groan was lost amidst hers as he rubbed against her so deliciously.

“Rose,” he breathed, releasing her lips to trail frantic little kisses along the curve of her jaw. He scraped his teeth along the side of her neck, sending shivers of pleasure sparking across her skin. She tightened her hold of his hair, keeping him where he was and urging him to do it again. He obliged. “I missed you. I love you.”

It was the first time he’d said those words since the beach. She gasped out his name and arched further into him, needing to be closer, closer, closer.

“I love you,” he repeated, kissing and sucking at her neck until Rose was sure there would be a deep red stain across her skin.

The pressure in her gut coiled tighter and tighter the longer they moved together. Their hips arched and rubbed and squirmed, hurtling her closer and closer to the edge. Rose wasn’t sure how much longer she would last when the Doctor’s rhythm faltered and he bit the soft part where her neck met her shoulder.

“R-Rose,” he rasped. “I… sorry, but if we keep going, I’m going to… er, make a real _mess_ of things.”

As much as she would love to continue as they were, she was desperate to feel more of him. They were still fully clothed, for heaven’s sake. Granted, they were each in shorts and a t-shirt, but still. They hadn’t removed anything, though the Doctor’s hands were doing a pretty good job of mapping out any bit of skin he could reach.

“Shift up a bit,” she ordered, lowering her legs from his hips.

“Right, yeah…”

He moved to clamber off of her, but she wrapped her legs around him once more.

“Don’t want to stop,” she said. “Just… freeing up the important bits.”

“Oh… _ohhhh_.” She had unceremoniously reached into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his hard, throbbing length. His hips stuttered into her touch, and she tried not to give him too much stimulation to send him over the edge. She made sure he didn’t get caught in the elastic of his waistband before she worked his pants halfway down his arse.

“Feels good,” he croaked, thrusting shallowly into her hand.

“It’ll feel better in a minute,” she said, wrenching her own sleep shorts down her legs.

After a whole lot of squirming, Rose managed to free one of her legs from the shorts, letting the fabric dangle at her other thigh. She made very quick work of lining him up and taking him into her.

“Oh… oh _Rose_ ,” he hissed, eyes and jaw clenched shut.

She was nearly beyond words at the friction, at the glide of him into her. Her hips undulated against his, working him deeper and deeper until he was seated as far as he could go. The Doctor trembled above her as he held himself still, letting her adjust.

After only a few seconds, Rose couldn’t bear the pressure anymore and she arched into him, wrapping her thighs around his lower back once more. She pressed her feet into his arse to spur him on, and he was all too willing.

It was over embarrassingly quickly, but it was so, so good. When his clever fingers drummed at the sensitive bundle of nerve just above where they were joined, the tightening coil deep in her belly burst outward, spiraling through her entire body from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She bowed off the bed, a garbled, wordless cry coming from her throat as she lost herself in her pleasure, in him.

He followed mere seconds later, his rhythm absolutely nonexistent as he worked for his release. It shattered through him in a rush of grunted curses and a sigh of her name as he pulsed and throbbed deep within her.

The world dissolved around her. There was nothing except for her and him, tangled together in the ultimate expression of love and unity. Rose trembled with aftershocks as her mind, for the first time in a long time, went utterly blank.

The Doctor breathed harshly at her breast, his forehead on her collarbone. His hair tickled her nose, and she brushed it away.

His arms trembled as he held himself above her, still seated inside of her. It was half a minute before he pressed a kiss to her chest and rolled onto his side, slipping out of her. She winced and grimaced, but followed him, tucking herself into his side. She threw a leg over one of his, careful not to accidentally knee him in a very sensitive area.

She was sure they looked slightly ridiculous. Her shorts were still dangling off of one of her legs and his boxers were barely tugged off his hips, and both their shirts were still on but twisted from their movements.

But Rose wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw, then to the corner of his mouth. The Doctor hummed and turned his head to meet her kiss.

“That was really rather brilliant, wasn’t it?” A self-satisfied smile played across his lips.

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed, snuggling beside him.

“Er… rather messy, though,” he said, beginning to squirm.

Rose breathed out a laugh. _Thank God_. Their combined fluids were rapidly cooling between her legs and becoming rather… sticky.

“A little bit,” she answered. And though she really wasn’t in the mood for it, she knew she ought to clean up.

As though he read her mind, he said, “Do you want to… erm, take care of things? Well. I should as well. It’s a bit… damp. Anyway. Do you maybe want to… share? A shower? With me?”

Rose peered up at him; he was looking directly at the ceiling. She rolled her eyes. After what they’d just done together, he was worried she would reject the intimacy of a shower?

“That sounds brilliant,” she said, kissing his chest.

She wriggled off the bed, and let her shorts finally fall to the floor. The Doctor very gingerly worked his boxers down his legs.

“I’m gonna need clothes,” he said, looking down at his discarded pants. “I’ve got no clothes. Definitely gonna need clothes. And- and money, I s’pose, to buy clothes. Blimey. Money. I’ve got no money. Never needed it, but now I do. You’ve got bills, so now I do too. Money. I’m gonna need a job, and a _name_ for identification, and papers, and…”

The Doctor’s eyes widened in his growing panic and his chest began rising and falling as his breathing went shallow and rapid. She stepped up to him and took his hands in hers, squeezing them once, before she dropped them to wrap her arms around his waist. He stood somewhat stiffly, but as Rose stroked his back gently, his muscles unlocked.

“We’ll take it day by day, yeah?” she said, echoing his words from the night before. “Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, if we need to. We’ll get everything sorted out. I’ll text Mum and ask her to bring a change of clothes for you, then we can think about going shopping. But for right now, you and I are gonna get a shower, then we’re gonna eat breakfast.”

“Most important meal of the day,” he quipped weakly. He hugged her tightly and tucked his face into the curtain of her hair. “Thanks. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Doctor. D’you think I didn’t have the same freak out when I first got here?” she asked. 

“I’m not _freaking out_ ,” he muttered petulantly.

She ignored him and continued. “We had to invent a whole new person for me. And raise Mum from the dead. We can do the same for you.” She paused and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s okay, y’know. To not be okay.”

The Doctor exhaled raggedly. “I know. But I don’t want you to feel like I regret being here. Because I don’t. Being with you again is… it’s the happiest I’ve ever been.”

She smiled into his neck. “Me too. But we’ve got a lot to adjust to.”

“Day by day,” he murmured.

“Together,” she added.

He finally pulled away from the embrace. His eyes hadn’t fully lost their panicked gleam, but it was definitely more muted. She understood all too well that anxiety.

Though their morning was utterly perfect and she was utterly content, Rose knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last. Too much had happened and so much had changed. There were so many emotions and hurts to sort through, and she knew some days would be worse than others.

But she also knew some days would be better than others. Some days would be perfect. And that would make it all worth it. Those days would be the days she would be fighting for when the fragile peace between them eventually cracked. But she had faith in herself and faith in him that they could work together to mend any breaks and piece themselves back together again, stronger than they ever were before.

As if he could see exactly what she was thinking, he smiled at her. His smile was a paradoxical mixture of sorrow and longing and joy; she was relieved he was on the same page, that he didn’t expect everything from here on out to be sunshine and rainbows. It would take work, on both their parts.

The Doctor reached out to cradle her cheeks in his palms. She leaned into the touch. His thumbs stroked her lips, then her cheeks as he ducked his head down towards hers. He skated the tip of his nose along hers, and hovered with his lips barely a centimeter away from hers.

“Together,” he affirmed, before he pressed his lips to hers to seal the promise of their forever.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! I would love to know what you thought 💜💜


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